Mary and her son, Jesus: Why I Became Catholic  

Do I kneel now or later?  Why is everyone making the sign of the cross?  And why am I standing again after I just sat down?  These questions raced through my teenage mind when at age fifteen, I attended Catholic Mass for the first time.  I was with high school friends on a Saturday afternoon and in our preoccupation with after-Mass plans, no one thought to explain the Catholic Mass to me, nor did I think to ask.  I followed their lead by mimicking their motions in what felt like “faking my way” through Mass.  But in one more salient moment, I paused and noticed Jesus on the Cross hanging high above the altar which was different from the barren cross at the Protestant church my family attended annually, on Christmas Eve.  The moment passed quickly and at that age, I never bothered asking the reason Jesus hangs on the cross as our social plans shifted into high gear the second we exited the pew.  Although, the promise to attend Mass made to their mothers was kept that afternoon and the questions I considered momentarily were not only explored, but the significance of their answers propelled me forty years later to join the Catholic Church after having felt led by the Blessed Virgin Mary and her beloved son, Jesus Christ. 

Nearly forty years later, life had presented times of triumph and tragedy that never were anticipated in those more carefree teenage years.  After the death of my husband left me feeling as though I were drowning in a sea of crushing wave-like emotions, an exploratory mission of my Christian faith provided, in time, an assured lifeline to the surface.

My husband passed in late 2014 after a long battle with an insidious disease: cancer.  Secondary losses mounted quickly after his death including raising our two teenage children without their father, protector, and guide. 

While I had always believed in God, I had never studied His Word nor relied on the Holy Spirit for direction. But in those early years following my husband’s death, my faith increasingly became the anchored buoy that kept me afloat in storms so mighty, that I often felt alone, adrift, and desperate for a gentle current to carry me to a new shore.  Perhaps attending Catholic Mass at age fifteen was one nudge in a series of many that ultimately brought me closer to Jesus. 

After one tough evening in 2015, the journey to appreciating God’s Word accelerated.  In an attempt that evening to find some sense of solace as a way to rise to the surface, I opened my Protestant Bible and searched for the word “widow.”  In the section labeled, Concordance, I found references to several Biblical verses containing “widow.”  Not only does God understand a widow’s plight, He cautions those who encounter widows with specific instructions for proper care.  Leave your orphans, I will keep them alive; and let your widows trust in me (Jer 49:11).  If God could intimately recognize my present circumstances and the state of my grief-stricken heart, what else does He want to teach me?

An examination of God’s Sacred Scripture began in 2015 by asking friends about Bible studies.  Who leads them?  What topics are covered?  How do I sign up?  Seek and you will find (Mt 7:7).  I joined a few small-group studies in 2015, and then in the fall of 2016, a friend suggested an interdenominational Christian class called Bible Study Fellowship (BSF).  I was already aware that by focusing on God’s Living Word, and by leading with what was broken, my heart was being made whole.    

Through BSF’s study of John’s Gospel, I sensed a shift in my own identity.  John, Jesus’ beloved disciple, desires we know Jesus and His promises of light rather than darkness (Jn 8:17; Jn 9:5).  As I continued to focus on God’s Word rather than my own despair, my mood lightened. Not to dismiss or diminish the positive impact of therapy with insightful counselors and the loving support of friends and family members during this difficult time, but only through deepening my relationship with God did crests of perpetual hopefulness emerge.    

By 2017, a few years into my Bible study odyssey, a dear friend asked, “Wendy, you’re already in so many Bible studies. Would you consider joining me for one at my Parish?”  I was gaining insight into the Heart of Jesus, but I wasn’t especially tied to Protestant theology.   Therefore, I answered, “Sure, why not?”  Her invitation opened not just a door, but a gateway to a faith so rich in Old and New Testament theology, steeped in beautiful Sacred Tradition, and one whose parishioners revere and pray to a Queen in Heaven for intercession that I never turned back.   

My first Catholic Scripture Study, Luke: The Gospel of Mercy, enlightened our small group on the possibility of salvation and divine mercy through God’s Son, Jesus Christ.  Session Five, entitled, “Mission of Mercy”, was particularly meaningful.  We studied the four groups of people Jesus released from their unjust bondage – the poor, captive, blind and oppressed (Is 58:6; 61:1-2; CCC 547-550).  Through the ages, we as human beings come to know the unfair reality that a percentage of people are born into a life characterized by marginalization, but perhaps less apparent are those who, like a foot that slips off the edge of a steep cliff, fall into one of these groups at some point during their lifetimes.  After my husband died, I fell into the crevice called oppression, but a few years elapsed before I fully understood its depth.  By late 2017, the first lawsuit with one of my late husband’s friends had reached resolution but I was in the midst of a second legal dispute to unwind prior business contracts.  Oppression felt like entrapment by duress without an obvious escape.  God knows this and I believe He inspired biblical stories about widows to show that with Him, fulfillment and redemption is received (Ru 3:9).  By mid-2019, the second lawsuit ended with a settlement.  Remembering God’s passages about widows provided tremendous comfort initially in my widowhood.  By deepening my relationship with Him through Jesus and by continuing to read His Word amidst these struggles, hope for my future grew.     

Following our weekly Catholic study, I often found myself in the Adoration chapel for stillness in prayer.  Two Catholic friends had taught me how to pray the Rosary.  In Adoration, I liked praying the mysteries of the Rosary as a means to stay focused, direct my heart towards the Blessed Virgin Mary and her Son, and to pray for my children.  I related to Mary as a woman, mother, wife, and widow.  I often gazed upon the Blessed Virgin Mary statue in Adoration and asked myself questions about her life, her obedience, and the suffering she endured by witnessing her Son’s crucifixion.  I longed to know more about her and the Catholic Faith.  A spark igniting an internal fire to learn more about Catholicism was lit; in September of 2019, I joined an RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) class. 

We read Michael Pennock’s book entitled, This is Our Faith: A Catholic Catechism for Adults. By this time, I was aware of the depth inherent in Catholic teachings.  Through RCIA, I had the opportunity to become educated on Catholic creeds, sacraments, commandments, and prayers.  However, during RCIA I veered temporarily away from learning about the Blessed Mother as we focused on understanding the Faith.  

Covid-19 interrupted our RCIA class.  Meetings eventually resumed via Zoom and over the course of the next nine months, I remained faithful in my studies.  Answers to questions I had at age fifteen were explained in a way that made perfect logical and spiritual sense.  Jesus hangs on the cross as a reminder of the most selfless act of charity that has ever happened or will ever occur. His glory are His wounds.  Catholics make the sign of the cross in remembrance of Christ’s sacrifice and of our baptism.  Catholics kneel in reverence to God the Father, His Son, and The Holy Spirit. Understanding theology about the Passion of Jesus allowed me in my darkest moments to surrender my suffering to Him because I knew He understood it. And now, several years after tremendous suffering has subsided, remembering Jesus’ sacrifice and seeing Him on His cross keeps me humble.  

I was confirmed into the Catholic Church on December 15, 2020.  Everyone wore masks that day and plexiglass separated me from the Priest, but I was not set apart from the presence of God.  And for my confirmation name, I chose Mary.   

Note:  Learning more about the Virgin Mary’s life has been an ongoing pursuit since 2019.  I hope to publish a devotional to the Blessed Mother including details of her life as recorded in scripture, through study by theologians, or as seen by mystics.  But mostly, I pray my writing captures Mary’s sacred yearning: for us to draw closer to her beloved son, Jesus. Please stay tuned….